


Morning Noon and Night

by Laylah



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Post-What Makes the Sky Blue III: 000 (Granblue Fantasy)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: Sometime after the threat of Lucilius' grand finale was put to rest, two strays find their way back to the Sky Realm and the person who was waiting for them.Well. Waiting for one of them.
Relationships: Belial/Lucifer/Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	Morning Noon and Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azurrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurrys/gifts).



It's funny. He would do anything to stick with Cilius, to demand his attention, to weather this imprisonment together... until one day he wouldn't. He wants more, has always wanted more, and he's not going to get it here. Is this evolution, too? Is he capable of change after all this time? Is that why the familiar old disdain doesn't feel like enough?

Eh, philosophy doesn't suit him anyway. Belial's always been more about getting some action. He's not getting enough stimulation here, so it's time to play the field. 

Eight wings weren't enough power to defeat the combined forces of the Sky Realm, but they're enough to let him fly the coop, to let him tear open a seam in this reality while Cilius is preoccupied with something other than him. It won't stay open for long, but really that just means he'll know where to go looking if he misses the bastard too much.

He slides into that tight opening and comes out in... a half-familiar place, a quiet garden of weathered stone and trailing vines and dappled shade. It clicks after a minute: this is just like the old garden at the labs used to look, the one where the spare waited for somebody to have time for him. Weird how such a sweet-looking place can be so miserable.

Movement on one of the garden paths makes him look up, and the person he sees coming toward him makes this situation immediately more nostalgic and a whole lot stranger.

"Hey, boss," Belial says. "Did I take a really wrong turn or did you have even more tricks up your sleeve than I did?"

Lucifer smiles, gently, warmly, as if Belial never murdered him at all. "Life is simply more resilient than any of us realized back then," he says. "And the place you ended up was hardly the only disjunct space nestled beside the Sky Realm."

"Ooookay." Belial looks around slowly, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings without entirely taking his eyes off Lucifer. He's never forgotten how the supreme primarch fought during the rebellion, and he's recently had a very good demonstration of what that body's capable of. Though if it's _here_ , and not back in the space he left... Well. Resilience, mysteries, he'll put that stuff aside to figure out later. There are more pressing issues now. "Disjunct space beside the Sky Realm, huh? How do you get back and forth?"

"I don't," Lucifer says simply.

"What?" Belial leaves off examining a too-smooth slab of marble filling what should have been a doorway in the old garden. "You're in one piece, I know you have people left over there, the degree to which evolution outpaced all of our expectations is fascinating—why stay locked up in a cell, even a pretty one?"

Lucifer looks at him for a moment, measuring, considering him, and then nods. The face is so familiar but the expressions are so strange after the company Belial's been keeping lately. "Come have a cup of coffee. We can talk about it."

That's an obvious opening for a come-on, isn't it? But they never really had that kind of relationship, so Belial leaves it unsaid. There's gotta be one guy you give it to straight, just for a change of pace.

Lucifer makes coffee in a little shady alcove, this complicated procedure with precision grinding and getting the water hot just the right way and introducing the water to the beans at exactly the right speed. It looks like the kind of thing that started as a ritual to buy time, to put thoughts in order before taking action.

He pours two cups for them and as they drink he explains how he found himself here, regenerating, despite having surrendered much of his power to his successor and losing more of it when his old body was...repurposed. (It's still beautiful, that body. Under the command of a much less charitable mind, but as graceful and elegant as ever.) How he concluded that with his purpose given over to little Sandy, he didn't belong in the Sky Realm anymore. How he didn't want to be a distraction from the kid doing the job of supreme primarch. Belial drinks the coffee as he listens. No matter how well it's brewed, the stuff is always bitter.

"I don't understand why you're so hung up on purpose," Belial says when his cup is empty. "Hasn't everyone lost that now? You, me, our subordinates, the war beasts—none of us are doing what we were made for anymore."

"Perhaps not." Lucifer looks down at his cup, swirling the last dregs of his coffee in the bottom. "I still don't feel I have the right to interfere, after all the mistakes I've made."

That sounds like cowardice to Belial, really. "Maybe it's more like, you should go back and make sure you've set things right." He stands up and flares all his wings out behind him. "Or maybe you should follow me when _I_ go back, to make sure I don't cause too much trouble."

For a second the annoyance flickering across Lucifer's face makes him look just like Cilius—but then he shakes his head and smiles that gentle smile of his. "You never could take no for an answer."

Belial grins. "Not when I'm right, and you know it."

* * *

The dragon screeches, diving for another attack. Sandalphon barely gets his sword up in time to block the bite, staggering backward under the force of the blow. His wounds ache but he makes himself strike out again, stabbing one of the beast's forelegs before it can rear back. He focuses his strength as best he can, aiming for joints where his blows will do more damage, wiping his brow to keep the blood out of his eyes. He's not sure how much longer he can keep this up—the dragon is weakening but so is he, and if he can't keep fighting then the town—

The dragon's next swipe knocks him down, sends him rolling through the dirt. His wings flicker and fade as he loses the concentration to keep them manifest. He has to get up. He has to keep fighting. The Sky Realm is in his care! He forces himself to his hands and knees but the taste of blood fills his mouth, making him cough and spit. If the dragon lands another hit like that one he's in trouble. He'll have to dodge, buy time until he can build enough energy to cast another Ecliptica...

A shadow, smaller than the dragon and many-winged, swoops overhead and gets between Sandalphon and the dragon. "You're lucky I don't mind your sloppy seconds, Sandy."

"You!" Rage overwhelms Sandalphon so completely that for a moment he can't even see. He tries to struggle to his feet, shaking with fury.

Hands clasp his shoulders from behind, gentle but firm, as he falters halfway to standing. "Rest, Sandalphon," says the most beautiful voice in the world. "You're hurt. Let me see."

He could never deny that man anything. Sandalphon sinks back to the ground, turning to look though he scarcely dares to believe—

But it's true. Lucifer is there, whole and unharmed, a tiny frown creasing his perfect brow as he examines Sandalphon's injuries. "You should never have had to face a battle like this alone," he murmurs as he starts stripping his arm wraps for bandages.

"There wasn't time to call for help," Sandalphon protests. It hurts to breathe. One of the dragon's strikes must have broken at least one rib. "And the people in town are only civilians, not fighters or seasoned skyfarers. I couldn't bring them into harm's way."

"I left the skies in good hands," Lucifer says. He tears away the tatters of shirt at Sandalphon's shoulder and begins to bandage the claw gouges there. It hurts, but pain is nothing. A primal with an intact core can regenerate almost anything. But the fact that Lucifer is touching him, caring for him, trying to ease what he's suffered, is almost more than he can bear.

Above, Belial calls something to the dragon that Sandalphon is glad he didn't catch, and laughs like a monster at its answering roar. "Why is he here?" Sandalphon demands. "That disgusting traitor, making a mockery of this struggle..."

"He does seem that way," Lucifer agrees. He's still holding on, as if he expects Sandalphon to try to launch himself after that bastard even without wings. "But even still, he fights with purpose. Those taunts are not for his own entertainment."

_Of course they are_ , Sandalphon would snap if it were anyone else. But he can see the truth in Lucifer's words. The flashy flight patterns and taunting words keep the beast focused on Belial alone instead of giving it the chance to attack the easier targets on the ground. But one simple act of no doubt manipulative assistance won't change Sandalphon's mind.

The more important question, _why are_ you _here_ , sticks in his throat. He catches Lucifer's hand in his, blood staining both of their fingers. "I'm glad you're here," he says. "I hope—"

A tremendous blast of energy, twisted and chaotic, rips through the air above them, making all of Sandalphon's hair stand on end. Seconds later the dragon's body crashes to the ground, oily black smoke rising from the hole blasted through its neck.

Belial alights on the ground just a short distance away, effortlessly elegant, clearly pleased with himself. "Thanks for getting him loosened up for me, Sandy—he was almost already spent when I got there, made it nice and easy to finish him off."

"Don't let him get to you," Lucifer says before Sandalphon can make an ill-advised attack. "And you, please don't provoke him deliberately."

"You never want me to have any fun," Belial says, but as far as things coming out of his mouth go, that's practically pleasant.

Lucifer kisses Sandalphon's temple and for a moment everything is perfect. "You were protecting the town near here, weren't you? Let's go back and tell them the monster's been defeated."

Sandalphon nods. Lucifer helps him to his feet and keeps an arm around him as he starts limping back toward the road. Even though Belial follows them, even though all his injuries hurt, he's happy.

* * *

Even for the most powerful primal, regeneration takes time. Sandalphon has been running a little cafe in the town's market district, and while he recovers Lucifer brews coffee for the patrons, many of whom stop by to offer thanks for his protecting them all from the dragon. Sandalphon stammers and tries to deflect their praise. Belial sticks around and flirts with most of them, but doesn't mention his role in the battle despite plenty of opportunities. 

On the third day, when a mother and son have just left the cafe—Belial waving to the mother with an indecent smile—Sandalphon snaps, "What are you after?"

Lucifer puts down the cup he was washing. He wants the answer to that too, even if he doubts this is the ideal way to get it.

"I'm just doing your sweetheart a favor," Belial says with a shrug and a smile. "Making it easy for him to keep me on a short leash."

Sandalphon raises himself up in his chair as if he's going to try to stand, to start a fight, and Lucifer comes out from behind the counter just in case he needs to get between them. "Is that what you're looking for?" he asks before Sandalphon can say anything. "Someone to keep you on a leash?"

"You know I go both ways," Belial says, still smiling but not meeting his eyes. Did that strike a nerve? Does he simply want them to think it did?

"Then go _that_ way," Sandalphon says, pointing at the door. He turns toward Lucifer. "And why are you humoring him?"

"Possibly because of the things you have in common," Lucifer says. He's been thinking about it a lot these last few days, the ways that Belial should be anathema but isn't. "The lengths both of you would go—have gone—to reach for someone precious who wasn't there for you enough."

Sandalphon stares at him, stunned.

Belial lets out a slow, shaky exhale. "Lucky I don't have any weak spots, boss, 'cause if I did that would have been it."

"I don't say it to hurt either of you," Lucifer says. He takes Sandalphon's hand and reaches out for Belial's. "We're all going to have some adjustments to make if we want to live in a world we no longer supervise. Can you try to coexist while we're all adjusting?"

"Such sweet talk," Belial says as he takes Lucifer's hand. "Sure. I bet you'll make it good."

"As long as he's not a threat to you in any way," Sandalphon allows. "I can be patient until he moves on."

"Thank you," Lucifer says. It isn't a perfect solution, but at least they have a truce. He can work with that.

* * *

A week later, Sandalphon's injuries have regenerated completely.

A month later, Belial hasn't moved on.

A year later, Lucifer suggests it might be time to buy a bigger bed.

For once, everyone agrees.


End file.
